The Missing Hours
by wonderwoundedhearers
Summary: The missing scenes in Michael's apartment from 'TPD: Ten Out of Ten,' with bits translated from 'Ransom My Heart'. O/s. Lem.


_**Title**__: The Missing Hours_

_**Fandom**__: The Princess Diaries_

_**Rating**__: M_

_**Pairing**__: Michael/Mia_

_**Summary**__: The missing scenes in Michael's apartment from 'TPD: Ten Out of Ten,' with bits translated from 'Ransom My Heart'. O/S._

_**Author's note**__: Obviously, Mia put her diary down to 'pay attention to Michael' so this is not in diary format. Also, as the extract from 'Ransom My Heart' was meant to represent their sexy-time – just like the story represents parts of their relationship in general – I thought I'd take my copy of RMH and translate (: This is the fruit of my labour. The sexy-times are translated from RMH, and the rest of it is from my imagination. The night's from Mia's POV, and the morning's from Michael's._

_**Disclaimer**__: __I own nada…zilch…zero…nil…nought…nothing…bugger-all…sweet FA… (You get the idea.) Everything belongs to Meg Cabot – I just borrow her best characters and fiddle with their words. *Giggles and runs away*_

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><p>As soon as Mia had put her diary away, they were at Michael's apartment on Spring Street.<p>

Lars opened the door for them, letting Mia out first and then shutting the door behind Michael as he stepped out. He left with a tiny, knowing smile, and Mia felt butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Michael's arm came around her waist. "Ready?"

She fought a blush at the double-meaning. "Definitely."

Michael smiled and led her towards a low-key red brick building with dark glass doors – the doors opened as they walked up and a smartly-dressed security guard smiled at Michael as they walked through.

The reception was low-lit, with an urban charm and stripped down walls – the whole place was made of dark red brick and it gave the illusion of warmth.

Without a word, Michael directed Mia towards the first elevator on the left across the spotless dark tiled floor – it opened straight away; they stepped inside and Michael pressed the button for the top floor.

Both his arms went around her as the metal doors shut before them, and she felt his warm breath wash over her neck.

"Everything's going right," he whispered.

Mia just smiled, placing her hands over his.

His lips brushed her ear. "I won't touch you until you tell me to."

Although his words created some anxiety, they mostly made Mia feel powerful – she was leading this thing, not Michael. Where J.P., Mia was sure, would have taken control Michael relinquished it to her freely and willingly.

The elevator came to a stop on the fifth and final floor, the doors opened, and they both stepped out – Michael took Mia's hand in his and led her to the end of the short, and surprisingly bright, hallway they were on.

Michael pulled out his key from his back pocket with his free hand and opened up the third and final door.

It was dark as they stepped inside and the door shut behind them, but when Michael moved away from her for a moment the lights flickered on.

It was beautiful. Just like downstairs the walls were bare red brick and the floor was made up of shining dark tiles, but instead of practical minimalism there were cushy dark brown couches before a flat screen T.V. and the walls had been decorated with framed posters – most of them were _Star Wars_, but there were a couple of science ones and…

"Oh," Mia breathed.

Michael's arms came around her again. "I know."

"I didn't think they had taken any…"

She was looking up at the framed poster that was in pride of place on the largest wall next to the apartment door – except it wasn't really a poster…it was a picture. It was a large photograph from the Non-Denominational Winter Dance, with Mia in her dress and Michael in his tux just holding each other.

Mia stared at it, remembering how it felt to finally be with Michael after so long…like just _right then_.

Michael's lips were at her ear again. "I love you, Thermopolis."

Mia smiled and span in his arms, not caring to look at the rest of the apartment having seen enough…well, except for one room.

Michael seemed to read her expression perfectly, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Okay."

He took Mia's hand once more, leading her past a bright open-plan kitchen complete with a breakfast bar and tall stools, and gently pulled her towards a closed wooden door. He pushed it open and Mia's heart began thumping wildly in her chest.

His bed was huge, soft-looking, with dark blue covers and wide, fluffy, sapphire pillows. The frame was dark wood, and it matched the wooden chest of drawers to the right of the huge room and the wooden desk to the left, which was neatly covered in papers and books with his open laptop on top.

The floor was carpeted in a dark cream and the walls were bare brick once more…except for one wall.

Mia halted in her mission for a second and stared at the wall – the wall of mirror.

"Uh…"

"That was here before," Michael hastened to answer. "Makes the room look bigger."

And it did, but it was parallel to the bed and the thought of looking to the side when… Well, it made Mia flush.

A deep chuckle came from Michael. "Maybe that too."

She turned and saw the large window over his shoulder encasing a suddenly rainy night – water pummelled the pane of glass, and Mia felt a shiver run through her.

She could see her reflection: a thin girl in a regal dress with a plastic tiara placed on her head…standing with a _very _good-looking boy with dark hair and broad shoulders. Nothing inside of her saw any inequality – they both were good enough for each other, and there would definitely be no other arduously long trips to Japan in the future, near or otherwise.

Her eyes fixed once more on Michael's face.

He was looking at her with such…_love_. And lust. Mia could see the desire on his face, could read it perfectly, and she was sure it matched her own expression.

"Mia," he said. "I know I said I wouldn't touch you, but–"

His voice was deep, husky, full of need, and Mia could feel her own need building and _building_ and…then she was suddenly in his arms, unsure of who had made the first move but not caring either way.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down to hers as she tangled her fingers in his soft brown hair. Her lips tingled and parted, anxious for his kiss – she could already taste his scent on her tongue, and it was _magical_.

Those strong arms of Michael's, the ones she'd longed to have around her for so long, imprisoned her and clasped her so close to him she could hardly breathe. Not that she could catch her breath anyway since he was kissing her so deeply, so urgently, as if she might at any moment be torn away from him.

But they had all night.

Mia lengthened the kiss at the thought, her tongue conducting a leisurely exploration of his mouth as her hands stroked the arms she'd thought about, and _dreamt _about, for so long.

Michael abruptly lifted his head, breaking the kiss, and looked down at her with those boggy eyes that seemed to suck her in even more violently than they usually did – so dark, and warm, and…_Michael_.

Mia knew she was panting – she could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly – but she couldn't care less.

She saw the question in his glance, and immediately understood – he was waiting for her to make her decision, to tell him to touch her. He obviously didn't know that she had already made her decision so long ago, when she'd first seen him with his shirt off strutting around his parents' place, and her heart had been lost for good.

"_Michael_," she breathed, her voice practically a growl. "Don't stop now. It's too late–"

Whatever she had been about to say died on her lips when Michael suddenly tilted her back in his arms and rained kisses down on her face and neck, before his mouth continued down her throat to the neckline of her dress.

But, anxious to kiss him again, Mia pulled his head up to hers and pressed her mouth to his – the kiss was hot, passionate, filled with searching tongues and lack of breath, and Mia gasped into Michael's mouth when she felt one of his hands close over one of her breasts and the other whip the plastic tiara off of her head.

The sensations that his mouth and his grip on her breast caused overwhelmed Mia, filling her with a white hot feeling of pure pleasure and happiness. So far it had been so much more than any of the other times they had previously fooled around – but then, she supposed, this time it _meant_ so much more. They were finally back together and this was the reunion scene of the romance movie they'd accidentally fallen into.

Michael was the only thing she could depend on to see her through the blissful haze she'd found herself in – the only stationary object she could cling to – and she knew that he'd see her safely through it.

She felt every inch of him against her – including the most…_relevant_ part – and she knew he had just what she needed. He could give her _everything_.

No more unicorn status, either.

It was as that thought passed through her mind that she got a taste of that 'everything,' from his knee slipping between her thighs and pressing insistently to the one place she most needed him. The shock that shot through her was like nothing she'd ever experienced before – it was a bolt of pure pleasure.

The next thing Mia knew, both of Michael's hands had slipped beneath her and he was lifting her into the air. Mia instinctively squeaked and clung to Michael tightly at his show of strength, but that was soon forgotten as his mouth came down over one of her straining nipples, caressing it with his tongue through the thin material of her dress.

Mia laughed, looking down at Michael and admiring his dark hair and eyes, and immediately felt bad for it – he was correcting her unicorn status, surely it was no laughing matter…

Suddenly, with a quick grin, he tossed her – right onto the bed. Mia bounced there for a second or two before Michael joined her, crawling over her like a jungle cat – a very _naked _jungle cat.

He'd pulled off his t-shirt and jeans, and even his _underwear_, and Mia felt like she would never laugh again. She'd seen naked men before, and even certain unclothed parts of Michael himself, but she'd never imagined that _all_ of Michael would be so…incredible.

He was well-made, muscled in _all _the right places and slim in all the others, with a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest and some more tapering down from his navel to between his legs, where…

Mia gulped, lifting her eyes to his once more.

But Michael wasn't about to give her a chance to reconsider – he shimmied her dress upwards to slip off her shoes.

Mia wouldn't be distracted, however – she lifted herself up on her elbows and breathed, "Michael, maybe–"

But Michael had already gripped one of her bare feet in his hands and dipped his head towards the arch of it – his lips caressed and kissed her skin there and she felt her body instantly react to his actions.

She tried to pull away, shocked at the sensation rushing through her veins, and Michael stopped kissing her foot…only to burn a trail of kisses up her legs, his tongue flashing heat over her calves, the backs of her knees, and the insides of her thighs…

Mia fell back onto the bed, shivers racking her body, but instead of stopping what he was doing or continuing in the same way Michael grasped one of her wrists and pulled her up towards him and into a sitting position. His hand went to the zip of her dress and in a quick motion he opened the zipper and pulled the dress off over Mia's head with his other hand.

Then with one quick pull at her silver lace panties she was completely naked, just like him.

Heat flashed over her and made her dizzy, and in her stupor her hands automatically went down to cover herself. But Michael kept his gentle grip on her and pulled her out of her daze – he was her stationary object once again, and she moved her hands back allowing him to see her once more.

His gaze was hot, heavy, but so soft, and it made her feel so beautiful.

"I love you, Mia," he murmured, pressing her down against the bed with his masculine weight.

His hard leg was pressed against the now-bare slick crevice between her thighs once more, and she didn't feel so shy any more – she was ready, and she wanted him.

She hadn't felt like this before – now she was older and more confident…she felt like _she _was worthy of _Michael_. And she didn't even have to go to Japan.

Feeling his thigh there once more, that bolt of pleasure shot through her and she needed and _wanted_ more – she arched against him instinctively, her hands gripping his shoulders and her thighs parting wider.

"I love you, too," she breathed, and Michael smiled widely before dipping down and kissing her deeply.

But as she arched once more, she felt his hands disappear and heard a rip of foil. Before she knew it, his thigh was gone and the very tip of his penis was pressed against her instead.

On her first view, Mia had thought incorporating Michael's length was going to be near impossible, but now she found that she didn't care – her desire far outweighed all her anxiety and inhibitions.

Michael seemed to sense her lack of hesitation, and with his mouth hot on hers he slid smoothly inside of her.

Mia gasped, realising that it might not be as easy a feat as she had thought to take him into her body, until Michael, hearing her quick inhalation of breath, withdrew a little and looked down at her with gentle uncertainty and Mia suddenly found she had been wrong.

She _could_ contain all of him without being broken in half, and the pain of losing her virginity hadn't been as half as bad as she had thought – she'd probably already lost it on a horse on one of her royal ceremonial excursions in Genovia.

Mia felt completely filled by Michael, and her only concern was her need for release.

But Michael obviously couldn't know that.

"Mia?" He asked softly and uncertainly, obviously aching to continue. "Are you–"

Rather than reply with words, she arched against him and silenced him with her lips to signal her need. And Michael, with a cry of something similar to exultation, plunged deep within her.

Mia climaxed almost at once, her nails digging into Michael's shoulders and her legs wrapping around his waist – she cried out against his mouth as wave after wave of release crashed over her. Michael's own release came just seconds after hers.

His heart pounding, his breathing hard, his first words were out of concern for her – he asked raggedly, "Did I hurt you, Mia?"

"Hurt me?" She echoed dazedly. "No way."

His head sagged in relief and he pressed his forehead to her shoulder.

Mia didn't know how long they lay like that, hearts pounding against each others' and limbs like Jell-O, but the rain had slowed to a finish and it was quieter than before when Michael finally lifted his head and kissed Mia again, this time gently.

"You didn't change your mind at the last minute, did you?" Michael asked softly.

"No," Mia breathed. "It was just a bit of a…daunting prospect. I didn't think I could survive it for a second, but I did and I enjoyed it."

"You're so strange, Mia," Michael said, smiling lazily as one of his fingers traced slow circles around her shoulder sending shivers up and down her arms. "But you're so brilliant, intelligent, funny, and beautiful, too."

Mia blushed. "You're a little heavy."

Michael chuckled softly, pulling himself from her and rolling onto his side. "Thanks."

Mia watched as he stood from the bed and then strode through a door she hadn't seen at first – an en suite. She lay there in the middle of the bed, limbs soft and boneless, and wondered if her body had ever felt so…normal – she just felt sated, and like every piece of her was where it was meant to be. That was including her heart.

Then she felt something strange – a tickling sensation began between her thighs, and she propped herself up on her elbows and looked down to see a little blood.

Embarrassed, she jumped up and tried to turn the stained cover over.

Michael caught her halfway through. "Mia? What are you doing?"

She was naked, bent over the edge of the bed, trying to flip the cover back. "Uh…"

Michael's gaze was smouldering as his eyes roved over her, before snapping back to her face. "Sit down."

She saw he had something in his hand, and decided to follow his command – she perched herself on the edge of the bed gingerly, unwilling to ruin his bed covers any more than she already had.

Michael came forward and knelt down before her, slipping a hand between her thighs and gently prying them apart.

Mia flushed. "What–"

He held out a damp washcloth and softly wiped between her legs – though the action deeply embarrassed her, Mia knew he was just being sweet and caring. Not to mention the warm water felt amazing, soothing an ache she didn't know even existed.

When he was done, he gave her a soft smile and placed a gentle kiss on her knee, before standing and returning the washcloth to the bathroom. When he returned, he took Mia into his arms and pulled her against his hot naked body beneath the covers.

Mia sighed happily with a smile on her face as her eyes drifted closed. Her last conscious thought, before sleep overcame her, was that it was strange how well their bodies fit together.

They were made for each other. She'd always known it.

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><p>Sunlight hit Michael square between the eyes and he opened them to find a head of shining blonde hair on the pillow next to his.<p>

He had to resist the urge to curse. And dance. And shout from the rooftops.

Mia. Mia back with him. Mia back with him, in his arms. Mia back with him, in _his_ arms and not J.P.'s. No more J.P.

He smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around her body – she was soft and warm and perfect, and he had never felt so happy. The hole that had formed in his chest that had been sucking everything into it like a black hole since the day he left for Japan…well, it was filled and sealed over pretty nicely. Almost as if it had never been there in the first place.

Mia did that for him. She just…made him.

She shifted in her sleep, and the innocent action caused a riot with Michael's body.

Mia was naked, he was naked, and he'd practically forgotten those two vital facts.

Her soft thigh brushed against his and he was suddenly as hard and aching as he had been the night previous before Mia had taken him inside of her so _perfectly_…

Judith Gershner had nothing on Mia – though in no way he wanted to compare the two, he couldn't help examining his only two sexual experiences.

He closed his eyes, nuzzled his face in the warm curve of Mia's neck, and sighed – he wished he had waited.

Having sex with Mia was _everything_ – it was pure and it was loving, and he was certain that he would never experience anything like it ever again. And he didn't want to – he only wanted _her_.

And he had her. Finally.

The thought plagued him for a moment, the way he had so frivolously given away his virginity – if he had known that Mia was _just_ around the corner…

He would have waited – he would have waited forever for her, if he only knew he had a _chance_. But he hadn't known, and his fumbling inexperience with Judith would have been something special instead of embarrassing if it had been with Mia.

Mia wouldn't have joked around, because it would have been special to her too – _God_, how he wished he had waited.

But regrets, he knew, did absolutely nothing.

Mia was there, with him, right then, and he knew he should be grateful for that small mercy. And for Lilly telling him to be where he had literally ran into Mia.

He knew why he had been told to be there by Lilly, even if she hadn't breathed a word about it – Mia and J.P. had been standing by the elevator and Michael knew it was that…time. The time that all the couples go off to their hotel rooms to Do It.

He felt his mouth twitch in a silent snarl.

Michael wasn't particularly violent, knowing resolution was better when it was created with words rather than anger, but sometimes he could see the sense in a good, hard beating.

If J.P. had touched Mia how he had wanted to touch Mia, Michael knew he would have hospitalised the arrogant jerk without a second thought. Cream of Wheat be damned, he wanted that guy in _pain_.

Mia suddenly shifted, rolling over onto her other side in Michael's arms to face him, and all thoughts of Judith, J.P. and Cream of Wheat vanished.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she tried to open her eyes, and Michael smiled. "Good morning."

Her eyes opened and met his. She immediately blushed and tried to roll away from him.

Michael caught her arm and pulled her back from the edge of the bed and into his embrace – she was smiling and compliant once more when he kissed her shoulder softly and let his hand caress the curve of her hip.

He had never thought he could find someone who matched him so impossibly well – though they were quite different people, it never _felt_ that way.

Mia didn't seem to regret that they'd spent the night together either, if her grin was anything to go by, and her twinkling eyes seemed to be full of self-satisfaction, like she finally understood what it was all about.

Seeing her pale skin in the bright morning sunshine that poured in through the large bedroom window, Michael could think of nothing but making love to her again. He'd felt that way before, whenever he was so deeply within the thrall of Mia, but this time he could actually do something about it.

He did so, immediately, sliding a hand between her slim thighs and lowering his head to capture Mia's lips with his. She stiffened against the pressure of his fingers at first, as he'd known she would, and then melted against them a minute later when his other hand went to caress her breasts.

Guiding her with his hands, Michael urged her to straddle him, and, after he'd pulled out a condom from a drawer in the bedside table and rolled it on, her slick tightness encompassed him and sheathed him in her warmth. It was his turn to writhe.

Michael watched Mia's hair fall around her face like a halo in the bright sunlight as they moved together, in awe of how beautiful she was, and he watched her face as she experienced yet another climax. He held on to her slim hips and plunged himself deeper and deeper into her, until at last he followed her into mindless pleasure and all was right with the world.

This time, it was Mia who collapsed against Michael, and he wrapped his arms around her as she came down, just looking over her and appreciating her beauty and the way she could bring out such strong emotions in him.

On top of him, Mia stretched, catlike, and said, "Hungry?"

Michael made a noncommittal noise and ran his hand over the soft curve of her ass.

She leaned down, capturing his attention, and murmured against his cheek, "Everything's changed."

"It hasn't, Mia. We were always meant to be like this." At Mia's raised eyebrow, Michael grinned. "Okay, maybe not exactly like _this_, but you know what I mean…_together_."

Mia just nodded and pressed her face to his neck, hiding herself. Michael felt her intake of breath and a few subsequent sniffs, and then he felt her body go even more limp and boneless on top of him than it already was.

He loved the way just his _smell_ could do that to her – it certainly did it to him.

Michael leaned in and took a deep breath against Mia's hair – she smelt like sunlight and orange blossoms, and it made his entire body completely _relax_.

"I missed you so much."

The admission was out of his mouth before he could check it, but it didn't matter – he wasn't planning on keeping anything from Mia ever again. That was including how much he loved her, if she still had any doubts.

Mia made a half-sobbing noise against his neck and then raised her head to look at Michael with wide, wet eyes. "I missed you too."

Michael gently stroked her face, smiling softly. "I never gave up, never thought I'd completely lost you."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded.

Mia sighed. "Me, too. I had a little…spark of hope or something, that was just waiting for you to come back."

He knew that spark – it had been his constant companion for months…as well as something else.

He reached over to the bedside table and opened up the drawer – he reached in and pulled out the necklace he had given her so long ago. The one she had thrown back at him.

Mia's eyes got teary once again when she saw it. "Oh, Michael…"

"I could get you a better one, a _diamond_ one…" He rambled, fixing the necklace around Mia's slender neck.

"I don't want another one," she smiled, and his heart melted just a little bit at the sight of that smile – it was the one that was just for him.

"I found it that night," he explained, "Where you dropped it. I kept it, and just waited. But I never thought…"

"J.P.?" Mia supplied quietly.

Michael just nodded.

"He was just _there_, Michael. He…he just picked me up and put me back together when you left. Well, with the help of Dr K, of course."

Her sudden expression told him he wasn't supposed to know that last part.

"Doctor…" Michael trailed off, pulling Mia to him and cuddling her against his body fully. "You're seeing a _therapist_?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "It's not like _that_…"

A sharp pain twisted in Michael's gut. "My leaving made you need to–"

"No. _No_," Mia said firmly, shaking her head and holding onto him tightly. "My whole life was just circling the drain and…yes, you leaving was a large part of me needing to talk to someone…but, Michael, when you left it just… Well, I am who I am now because of that."

Michael sighed, trying to push away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. "I know exactly what you mean."

Mia smiled. "You were always perfect, so…shut up."

Michael felt a smile break out over his face, and teased, "Perfect, huh? Yeah, I'm pretty perfect."

She poked him playfully and lay her head down on his chest. "You _are_."

"I'm not, Mia," Michael chuckled. "If I was I wouldn't have needed to leave you, I wouldn't have let J.P. get _anywhere _near you, and I certainly wouldn't have needed to leave your party before I wiped the floor with that guy's face."

Mia looked up at him incredulously. "No…"

"When he gave you that ring…" Michael took a deep breath and tightened his hold on her. "He's lucky he can still chew."

"Well," Mia sighed. "I'm just glad it didn't come to that – you know, opposed to violence, pro-peace, and all that."

"Genovia got a CardioArm out of it," Michael teased. "Your dad was–"

"Oh, my _GOD_! _Dad_! The _election_!" Mia cried, leaping out of bed to find her phone.

As she rushed around the room, looking for her purse, Michael couldn't help but smile and sigh. "Perfect."

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><p><em><strong>Author's note<strong>:_

_So, anyone? What do you think? Let me know! (: Peace!_


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